Mass Effect: Reap What You Sow
by Kazlin
Summary: Commander John Shepard hangs between life and death, having the strangest conversation of his life. His friends and lover must come to terms with the new world they reside in and hope for the day that Shepard returns to them.
1. Don't fear the Reaper

"_Death is nothing to us, since when we are, Death has not come, and when Death comes, we are not_." - Epicurus

There was nothing. No light, nor darkness, heat or cold, not even the beating of his own heart could be heard let alone felt. Suddenly…**_thip_**…like the turning of page. This was the only sound Commander John Shepard heard. He looked around, nothing but darkness.

**_Thip._**

"Is somebody there?" He called out, his voice making no sounds in the dark.

**_"I AM HERE, COMMANDER. DON'T WORRY, TAKE YOUR TIME. I HAVE A BOOK TO KEEP ME ENTERTAINED."_**

Shepard looked around again, but once more saw nothing."Where…where are you?"

**_"WHY, WHERE I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN MY FAITHFUL COMPANION. AT YOUR SIDE, THROUGH ALL OF YOUR TRAVELS."_**

Shepard looked to his side, following the sound of the voice. Upon finding its source he scrambled away from the visage before him. A skeletal human, skull hidden by a deeply hooded robe sat in a folding chair, a light illuminating him that came from nowhere, but somewhere. A book in its hands as it turned the page with a_**thip **_that drifted off into the dark**_._**

Shepard stared at what had to be an aberration to his mind. "Are…are you real?" He couldn't believe it, this thing sitting calmly before him. It looked just like the popularized image of of the Angel of Death that the Westernized Humanity had adopted for centuries.

**_"AS REAL AS YOU ARE AT THIS MOMENT."_**

"But you're…"

**_"YES." _**

"Does that mean I'm…"

**_"NO. YOU ARE, TO PUT IT MILDLY, ONLY MOSTLY DEAD, COMATOSE, HAVING A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE. "_**

"Mostly dead? But how, the Citadel tore it self to pieces above Earth! If I didn't burn, I would have been spaced! Again!" His voice cracked, emotion flooding through him as everything that had happened hit him at once. When the Intelligence had given him the three choices he refused to believe that was it. His entire life, from his childhood jumping across the galaxy with his parents to his long military career he had always found a way. He had on Elysium, Ilos, and the Collector base. He always found a way to complete his mission. To win.

The Crucible had forced the Intelligence to look at every viable option to defeat the Reapers and Shepard forced it to relay those to him, to allow _him _to decide. His final decision, his choice, was to unleash what was in essence a virus. A virus that forced the nano-bots that filled the Reapers, like the blood in an organic body, to turn on their hosts eventually killing them from the inside out. A secondary effect of this was the swift and sudden degradation of the Reaper's shields and armor as the nanites ate away like a cancer.

"How?"

**_"A WELL TIMED BIOTIC BARRIER COMBINED WITH A STASIS FIELD ON YOUR SELF. QUITE INGENIOUS ON YOUR SUBCONCIOUS' PART, IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF."_**

Shepard looked around him at the darkness, "Where are we?"

**_"IMBETWEEN. BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT YET DEAD, I CAN NOT COME TO TAKE YOU ON. BUT YOU ARE CLOSE, OH SO CLOSE JOHN. YOU TEETER ON THE PRECIPACE OF LIFE AND DEATH AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO TILT THE BALANCE ONE WAY OR ANOTHER. ALL THERE IS TO DO IS WAIT, AND TALK."_**

* * *

The red and black colored varren made its way through the rubble of the destroyed city. Its owners had brought it along when they left the home cavern to come to this strange world and fight the metal-meat creatures. It sniffed along the ground, a sent toying at his memory. One of sweet Pyjack meat and a kind alien that the masters had liked. It followed the scent, ignoring the calls of its handler in the hope of more Pyjack meat.

Commander Shepard breathed. Painfully, slowly, constantly. Unable to move, unable to think, but he was _breathing._ It was raining; cold drops of water splashing his face. Suddenly the rain was blocked; a hot panting filled his ears as he felt a blunt nose push against his arm.

"Urz! Urz where the Hell did you go?" Grunt shouted as he clambered over the rubble. He'd led the reformed Aralakh Company against the Reapers in London, earning great honor not just for himself and his company but for all Krogan as well. Now he was chasing after a damn varren through the rubble. He swore that he'd shoot the damn critter once he caught it. He let out a grunt, a bit of humor not lost on him, as he pulled himself over a fallen slab of concrete. "What did you fin-" His sentence cut off as his voice caught in his throat. There lay his Battle Master, burnt and bleeding but breathing with a varren panting beside him. Grunt turned to shout over his shoulder calling for his comm specialist, a human marine, "Get on the radio and call in a medevac. We just found the Savior of the Galaxy."

* * *

Turian Communications Specialist Auerillius Breton had spent the better part of the battle for London doing a job that he felt was better suited, in his opinion, for a Geth: fielding the influx of field medical requests from units fighting across the island and in the northern coast of the state of France to the south. It was boring, and he hated it. He'd rather be out there fighting with his brothers in arms. He shifted in his field chair, trying to stay awake as the radio crackled to life.

_Dust Off 34 this is Aralakh 18, how copy? Over._

"Aralakh 18 this is Dust Off 34, we read you Lima Charlie."

_Dust Off 34, we have located codename Sheepdog. Prepare to receive 9-line medevac, over._

With that Auerillius sat up. Sheepdog was the code name given to Commander Shepard for Operation HAMMER FALL. He had been MIA since the Crucible had fired almost ten hours prior. If Shepard needed a medevac… "Send it, Aralakh 18."

Jack sat on the ground, her back against the tent wall as she pressed her knees to her chest, her head resting on her knees as she waited for the message she hoped would come. She wouldn't pray. It wasn't her way. It had been hours since her all too brief conversation with Shepard, when she told him he'd damn well better come back alive. _"I won't leave you again, Jack." _he had promised her. And what did that mother fucking King of the Boy Scouts go and do? Left her to go play _soldier_, to be the _god damned hero_ everyone needed him to be. She hated him for it, loved him for it. The same loyalty he had shown the Alliance he had shown her, never giving up on _them_. She had marked him, tattooing him so everyone would know that he was _hers._ So that if anything happened, he could be ID'd. ID'd and brought back to her.

"Jack? Jack are you in here?" It was Kahlee Sanders, her boss back at Grissom Academy and immediate superior in combat.

"Over here, Sanders." Jack responded, her voice a raspy croak from hours of shouting orders over the din of combat. It had been a rush, as it always was, bringing back that good feeling she always got when she fought. And then…and then the news came. Shepard had made it to the Crucible, and minutes later it had lit off like a giant roiling fire ball of pure white light. The Reapers had bellowed and lifted off, and she could have sworn that pieces had started to fall off of them as they rose into the sky.

Sanders made her way over to Jack, stepping over and around the packs and boxes that littered the floor of the tent. Sanders sat on a cot in front of Jack, brushing a lock of golden blonde hair back behind her ear. "Jack, you've been sitting here for hours. You need to get up and get back out there. The Reapers may be on the run but they're still out there, and your students need you."

"No they fucking don't. They're fine, just let me be." Jack said into her chest, not even bothering to look up.

"No, they're not. They look up to you, they need you out there leading them and protecting them." Sanders reached out a hand, only to have to swatted away.

"Don't touch me! What part about leave me alone do you not understand, bitch?!" Jack shouted, scrambling to her feet.

Kahlee took it all in stride, it wasn't the first time she'd been on the receiving end of one of Jack's legendary tantrums and it certainly wouldn't be the last. "What's wrong, Jack?"

"What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG?!" Jack was screaming at the top of her lungs, the blue mist of her biotics flaring around her clenched fists. "Everything is wrong! Every god damned, mother fucking, thing is wrong! I want to go out there and kill every mother fucking Reaper piece of shit I can get my hands on! I want to make them pay!"

"Pay for what?" Sanders was pleading, trying to calm Jack down before she hurt herself, or worse; the entire FOB.

"For taking him from ME!" With that she stumbled back into the tent wall, sliding down to the ground as tears flowed freely. Her chest chest began to heave imbetween sobs as she began to hyperventilate. Sanders quickly knelt, gathering Jack up in her arms, holding her like the daughter she never had. "Oh, Jack…" She tried to think of something to say, to ease the pain that Jack must be feeling, unable to save the one man she had ever truly loved. "I'm sure that he's…" Before she could finish the thought she was cut off by a rush of noise outside the tent, shouts and cries of "They found him! They found the Commander!" From soldiers of all races as they ran past the tent the two women sat in, clinging to each other in a moment of disbelief and shock.

"They found…He's alive." A laugh rang out as Jack leaned her head back against the tent's fabric wall. "I'm going to kill that asshole."


	2. Diagnosis

**"We were the magnificent dreamers.  
In secret lamplight hideouts.  
We swore the world couldn't break us,  
even when the world took us down."**

**"We're Getting a Divorce, You Keep the Diner" – The Gaslight Anthem**

"Are you a god?" Shepard questioned, sitting in the dark a few feet from Death in this dark place.

**_"A GOD? NO, GODS DO NOT EXIST. THERE ARE THINGS OUT THERE THAT BELIEVE THEY ARE GODS, BUT THEY ARE NOT."_**

"Then what are you?"

**_"I AM YOUR DEATH."_**

"My death? I thought that you were some sort of…omnipotent being, capable of being everywhere at once. Isn't that how you'd have to be to do what you do?"

**_"MY DEAR JOHN, I AM YOUR DEATH. I WAS WITH YOU SINCE YOUR BIRTH AND I WILL BE WITH YOU TILL I SET YOU ON THE LAKESIDE FOR THE FERRYMAN TO TAKE YOU ACROSS. EVERYONE HAS THEIR OWN DEATH, NO TWO BEINGS CAN SHARE THE SAME DEATH."_**

* * *

Jack and Sanders bounded from the tent and into the crowd running towards the Shuttle field, jostling and butting elbows with Turians, humans and Krogan (even a couple of Geth) as they attempted to make it to the front. "Out of my way! Get the…" Jack dug a biotically charged elbow in a too slow Turian who was sent flying sideways into a pair of Salarians. "Fuck out of my way before I start _throwing _you fuckers out of my way!"

With that the crowd parted like the Red Sea as Jack stormed to the front, Kahlee following in her wake as they watched the shuttle descend and land. Jack looked on as the shuttle door slid open, a Turian and Human Marine hopping to the ground and carefully pulling out a stretcher as a Salarian and Krogan held the other end, each taking one of the stretchers four handles. Together they stepped forward on their left foot, their eyes tired but set in determined faces. Jack ran forward, she had to see, to know that it was _him_. As she approached the group time seemed to slow for her as her as her eyes looked over her lover, her man, her Shepard. He who had guided her by the hand out of the deep, dark, anger filled corner of her mind that she had dug herself into. She stood silently, taking in the myriad of bruises, burns and blood mixed with Medi-Gel, broken bones and limbs tied off with tourniquets. Her eyes locked on his face, bloody and swollen, covered with a thick layer of dark ash and burnt skin. But it was him, under all of it. She watched as the stretcher bearers continued their march forward, the crowd parting in-front of them as heads were bowed and caps snatched off heads as the stretcher passed them. She turned, the sound of gravel crunching underfoot catching her attention as a Turian, his right face covered with scars walked up to her. "Jack, showing your softer side in public? I don't know whether to be proud of your maturity…or terrified." He stopped, half turned to her, folding his M-97 Viper onto his back.

"Fuck off, Garrus before I make the other side of your face just as ugly as the other." Her threat was half-hearted as she glanced back at the stretcher, at Shepard.

Garrus' mandibles flexed out in the Turian form of a sigh. "Listen to me, Jack, and I'll tell you something I overheard a team mate and a friend say once. 'Take your balls out of your purse, and kick some ass.'" A smile spread across Jacks face, her hands on her hips as she looked first at the ground and then around her, wondering what exactly she was doing.

"He'll be fine," Garrus softly said "he's survived worse and he wouldn't want us to just sit around, waiting on him. So what do you say Jack? How about we go find Grunt, he should be around here somewhere seeing as he came back with the shuttle, and kick some ass?"

"Just like old times?" "Just like old times."

The smile slowly turned in a predatory grin, taking one last look back before moving at a jog towards the shuttles, shouting "You coming or what, Scars?" "Don't worry, I'm right behind you!"

* * *

**Earth, England, FOB Alenko, outside of London, 2036 hrs**

Doctor Karin Chakwas stepped out of the field medical station, her normally clean Alliance scrubs covered in blood and bits of gore that was the child of war and battle. She needed a hot bath and a cup of tea, or perhaps a strong glass of brandy. '_No,'_ She thought, '_the brandy is for our anniversary, after he wakes up.' _She looked back into the small pre-fab structure she had walked out of, the soft hum and beeps of the medical machines inside. A single medical bed occupied the structure, a body, toned with heavy muscles lay half hidden by a shroud. She had cared for him over the years she'd been Chief Medical Officer onboard the Normandy, both the SR-1 and SR-2. She'd healed his cuts, broken bones and burns. She was there for him when he lay unconscious after Eden Prime and when his skin bubbled with the acidic burns of the Thorian's thralls or the jagged slashes from the Rachni on Noveria. When Cerberus rebuilt him she, along with Joker, had been the first of the original crew to stand by his side against the Collector threat. Then Horizon, the Collector Ship, Tuchanka. God, Tuchanka wasn't nearly as bad as that dead Reaper corpse. Then Project Overlord on Aita, and then the Bahak system before, finally, they had launched their assault the Collector Base.

After that she thought that they may have had some time, and they did, six months of interrogations by ONI and a half dozen other agencies that she couldn't have named for her life, all the while Shepard was under house arrest in Vancouver. The non-human crew had been let go, and the non-Alliance Humans had left as well, Jack, Miranda, Jacob, Gabby and Kenneth along with the rest of the Cerberus crew. Shepard had saved them all. He held not just them, but the entire galaxy on his shoulders. And he had kept pushing on. Then there was Maene, Sur'Kesh, Ranoch, the Citadel, and Tuchanka again. Thessia had been the worse, not physically for the Commander, but mentally. She knew he hated losing, and losing the Prothean VI to that bastard Kai Leng was nearly as bad as any wound he had sustained.

She was snapped out of her thoughts as an Asari, dressed in a cleaner set of scrubs than her, walked up to her. "Dr. Chakwas? I have a message from the Midway; Admiral Hackett is requesting a situation report on the Commander." Karin nodded quickly, "Yes, yes. I'll be right there. Would you mind keeping watch on him?"

"Of course, Doctor."

With that Karin started walking towards the Comm's tent, stopping only to change her uniform to be presentable in front of the Supreme Allied Commander of the Joint Galactic forces, and between the death of most of the civilian government with the destruction of Arcturus station and the Reapers harvesting dozens of Human colonies, Hackett had been declared De Facto Caesar of the Alliance.

She stepped in front of the holo-projector, "Dr. Karin Chakwas reporting as ordered, Admiral." Hackett's image popped to life before her.

"Ah, doctor, good to see you again. How is our Commander doing?" Even over the orange tinged hologram Hackett looked tired. Between overseeing the build-up and deployment of the largest fleet and construction project in the history of the galaxy and now leading the fight on Earth and her colonies he was stretching himself thin.

"Frankly? Better than we had feared, worse than we hoped. He's comatose, with burns covering nearly 30% of his body and that doesn't even count where his armor fused to his skin. The Krogans managed to stop most of the bleeding with Medi-gel, but the bones in his left arm and leg had shattered despite the heavy bone weave he had received during his campaign against the Collectors. We were forced to amputate them."

Hackett grimaced, that was the nature of war. Even in the late 22nd century amputations from battle wounds were still sometimes necessary. "What else?"

"Both of his ear drums have ruptured, ten of his ribs have broken and one of his lungs has collapsed and he has severe swelling inside his cranium. He shouldn't be alive, Admiral, but somehow he is." _'Thank whatever gods are out there for that_' she thought.

"What needs to be done, doctor? Do you have what you need there?"

"No, sir, we don't. He needs extensive cloning for body parts if he's not going to live with prosthetics for the rest of his life. He needs to be at an actual hospital, not in a field tent." She had lost Shepard once, she'd be damned if she'd let him stay in danger here on Earth.

"I understand, doctor. I'm authorizing the Commander to be transferred to the _S.S.V. Asclepius_, a medical transport, and then on to Sur'Kesh. Besides the Cerberus raid it went almost untouched by the war and they have the closest, and best, hospitals left in the galaxy. The Commander will be safe, and have a damn good chance to make a recovery…Probably the best chance."

"Thank you, Admiral. One request, if I may. I'd like to go with him, I've been his doctor for years now, and have extensive knowledge of his current wounds."

A pained look seeped across the Admiral's face, "Doctor, I need you to understand that we need you here. We have too many casualties and not enough medics. I wish I could. We'll be sending Miranda Lawson with the Commander, seeing as she was the Cerberus project leader that brought him back."

"I…yes, Admiral." Karin decided that she'd have to have a conversation with Miranda.

* * *

**Woo! Second chapter done. Please feel free to PM me with questions, especially if you think I've got something wrong with the characters, or just drop a review. I'll get working on the next chapter ASAP, so I hope you enjoy this one.**


	3. Thresholds

**A/N: Sorry about the long wait on this update. Between working 7 days a week and a major case of writers block, I really struggled with this chapter. But, I kept you all in mind and finished it. Hopefully the next one will come easier and quicker, yes?**

**Also, cookie for who ever can figure out where the preacher's prayer comes from.**

* * *

**"Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!**

**We laughed, knowing that better men would come,**

**And greater wars: when each proud fighter brags,**

**He wars on Death, for lives: not men, for flags." **

**The Next War, by Wilfred Owen**

"Death, earlier you said that there are no gods, and that this was a place between life and death. But then you said something about a lakeside and a ferryman. What are they, if there are no gods?"

**_"THEY ARE THE THRESHOLD. I DO NOT KNOW WHAT IS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THAT LAKE. I DO NOT THINK ANYONE DOES."_**

"There must be something, after all, I did come back from there. Where ever 'there' is."

**_"WHY YES, YOU DID. WHAT A SURPRISE IT WAS TO ME, FINDING MYSELF STANDING ONCE MORE ON THAT SHORE, SEEING THE FERRYMAN BRINGING YOU BACK TO ME."_**

* * *

Miranda Lawson tapped away at her Omni-tool as she made her way to Shepard's medical station. Just the night before Admiral Hackett had placed her in charge of overseeing the Commander's transfer to Sur'Kesh and then his recovery. _'I brought him back from death, so a coma shouldn't be much of a challenge.' _She thought to herself as she walked, dodging the muddy puddles that were all too common in the FOB's churned up earth. The Forward Operating Base had been a sea of confusion and activity ever since Hammer landed a week prior. Men and women of all species running about on whatever errand or mission they had been assigned.

She nodded to the guards, a pair of marines, as she strode past their salutes. "So, what are we going to do to-WHAT THE BLODDY HELL IS THAT?!" She shouted, stopping short in the doorway as the Varren raised its head and let out a low growl from its position at the foot of Shepard's hospital bed.

"That would be a Varren, ma'am." One of the marines outside quipped, earning a snort from the other.

"Yes, I can see that it's a Varren. But what the bloody hell is it doing here?" She kept her eyes on the beast, one foot partially raised off the ground. She _hated _Varren.

"Uh, one of the Krogan, the big one with the silver head plate, brought it here. He said it was the Commander's from back on Tuchanka."

_'Grunt. This must be his idea of a joke.'_ "Well then, would you two kindly remove it?"

"Afraid we can't do that, ma'am. See, we already tried and that Krogan said that once a Varren imprints on a master, it'll stay with them for the rest of its life." She could hear the marines outside desperately trying to keep their professionalism.

"Bloody brilliant." She muttered, '_Well, I'll just have to deal with it.' _With that she set about her job, making sure the Commander was prepped for transfer, all the while dodging around the slumbering Varren. She buried herself her work, doing her best to place the Commander into the slot of "patient" in her mind instead of "friend", or as she had hoped before Shepard had chosen Jack, "lover". She was pulled back to the present as her Omni-tool blinked with an incoming message, a few quick taps on brought the call up onto a projected screen.

"Doctor Chakwas, how may I help you?" Miranda asked as she leaned up against the structure wall, her eye's darting down to the Varren as it raised its large head to stare at her with eyes of blue.

"I…I was hoping to ask you a favor, Miranda. Admiral Hackett has informed me that I am to stay here on Earth, to help with the wounded, after I asked him if I would be sent with the Commander to SurKesh. And so I was wondering if…"

"If I, as project leader, would override the Admirals position and let you join?" Miranda interdicted, "I had already planned on making a case to the Admiral. Your expertise, and more so your experience with the Commander would make you an ideal doctor to handle his recovery. I'm sure we could convince the Salarians to send a few doctors and medics from SurKesh to Earth to make up for your loss."

Miranda made her goodbyes to the doctor over her thanks, informing her of when and where to report to leave for SurKesh. She wrote up and submitted the appropriate forms for the transfer to the Alliance and quietly cursed their inefficient bureaucracy. She took a step forward and was almost knocked over as the Varren, that up to that point had been quietly laying still, bounded up and out the door into a chorus of growls and laughter. "Eezo, down girl! Down!"

Miranda let out a groan, rubbing her forehead as she heard Jack's voice drift in from the parade ground outside. She strode out, leaving the beeps and hums of the medical equipment for the chaotic rumble of the FOB. "Jack. What are you doing here?" Miranda stood in her signature pose, hands on cocked hips, as she peered down at her scared and tattooed former shipmate.

"The hell do you think I'm here for, Cheerleader? Tea and crumpets?" Jack glared up at her, even putting aside their differences on the Citadel during Shepard's little party there was still a level of dislike between them. "I'm here to see Shepard."

"He's comatose, so I don't know what you're expecting." Miranda nodded her head over her shoulder, "And I'm busy getting him ready for transport, so I have no time to indulge you."

Jack rocketed up, a couple quick strides bringing her inches away from Miranda. "I'm leaving to go be with my students, and if you think you're going to stop me from seeing him before I do, we will finish what we started way back on the Normandy. And Shepard isn't here to talk me down from smearing your ass across this camp." The guards had shifted, ready to pull the two apart if anything started, but Miranda waved them away.

"You could try if you like, but I think I'd enjoy having you owe me a favor. So go on in, you have five minutes." With that Miranda brushed past Jack and letting her enter, wondering once again what it was that Shepard saw in that psychopath.

* * *

Jack glared at Miranda as she walked by before turning into the equipment filled room to walk to Shepard's bedside. She stared down at him, wondering what she would say even though she knew he couldn't hear her. "Hey dumbass." 'Yea, _that seems like a good start there Jack._' She thought to herself as she ran a hand down his surviving arm. "I…I don't know if you can hear me in there, but I wanted to say…that I'm sorry. For everything. For leaving you with those Alliance assholes after we took out the Collector base, for not coming with you here on Earth, for…fuck. I just kept pushing you away, brushing off that boy scout love you kept up. I should have come to see you, on the Normandy, instead of using a fucking holo-call." She looked around the room, trying to gather her thoughts. "You went off on the most dangerous mission you've had yet, more dangerous than the base and I wasn't there. I wasn't there to make sure you came back out the other side! And you almost didn't. I almost never got to tell you. To tell you that I…"She hung her head, the final words caught in her thought. "You know what," She sniffed, holding back a stream of very un-Jack like tears. "I'm not going to say it. Not until your ass is awake and back with me. So you're just going to have to wait, Shep. Just…don't keep me waiting too long, okay?" She turned, looking once over her shoulder as she walked away, hands clenched as she once again left him.

* * *

**Omega**

"AND SHEPERDS WE SHALL BE, FOR THEE MY LORD FOR THEE, POWER HATH DESCENDED FORTH FROM THY HAND, SO THAT OUR FEET MAY SWIFTLY CARRY OUT THY COMMAND. WE SHALL FLOW A RIVER FORTH TO THEE AND TEEMING WITH SOULS SHALL IT EVER BE! IM NOMINE PATRIS, ET FILII, ET SPIRTUS SANCTI!" Shouted the human woman, her arms raised above the heads of the small crowd gathered around her. She had, smartly, chosen an area of Omega away from the infamous Mad Prophet. The crowd, made up mostly of humans with a few Turians, Krogan and even a Batarian and a Hanar mixed into the group, muttered along with her prayer.

"My children! My fellow member of the Flock! Do not despair, for even though the great Shepard has slipped into an endless sleep He has not left us! It was He who was gifted with prophesies of the Reapers return! He who toiled to ensure we would be prepared, even when fools and doubters like the Council ignored His holy words. Even now, His Sheepdogs keep guard across the Galaxy to protect His flock, and you shall know them by their sigil!" She continued on like this for some time, riling up the crowd.

Bray blew out a small cloud of smoke that drifted imperceptibly into the hazy air of Omega. The preachers, prophets, and general cons extoling the virtues of Commander Shepard had popped up like weeds not just across Omega, but across the entire Galaxy in the past week. Bray had met the man, and he seemed just that to him: a man, a Human, nothing special or god like about him. Oh, Shepard was a Hell of fighter and Bray wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of a gun from him, but that wasn't unusual in the galaxy. He took another pull of his cigarette and leaned against the pillar he stood next to, he wouldn't mention that last part to any Krogan who believed in Shepard's godhood, though, seeing as they'd probably tear his arms off and bludgeon him to death with them. He shook his head for apparently a sect of Krogan had come to believe that Shepard was actually the Krogan god Areatath, god of Battle and Regeneration, brought to mortal form. The Hanar were calling the Commander the 'Prophet of the Enkindlers', the Turians referred to him as the 'Spirit of the Galaxy'. Load of varren shit, all of it.

He flicked the cigarette to the ground and headed back towards Afterlife, he'd let Aria know about the new preacher on the block. Omega had done well, recovering quickly from the Cerberus occupation. First thing Aria had done was slow down the drills back to their previous tempo, she wasn't about to lose millions of credits and eezo to replace the massive drill heads that Cerberus had been overworking. As it always did the heavy bass and heat of Afterlife hit him like a sledge hammer as he entered the club and made his way up to Aria's loft, finding her relaxing on her 'throne' of a couch with her most recent play thing, a Human female with bleached blonde hair and high off her ass on Helix, splayed out next to her. "Boss."

"Bray, anything new I should know about seeing as you felt the need to stick your head out the door?" Aria didn't even bother to glance over at her Batarian bodyguard, instead keeping her gaze on the holo-pad in her hand.

"Just a new preacher in town, another one for Shepard." Bray took up his usual position on the step below Aria's platform, his back half turned to her.

"Mm. They are popping up like weeds now that he's the 'Savior of the Galaxy'. Anything interesting this time or is it the usual crap?" She waved her fingers in front of the girl whose Helix addled brain sent her giggling.

Bray queued up his recording of the preacher and let it play. "Wait, that last part of the prayer. What was she saying?" Aria asked, to which Bray simply shrugged. "Useless…Neither the Codex or any of my translation software can figure it out."

"It's Latin." The Human managed to speak between giggle fits.

Aria stared down at her as if she'd never seen the girl before in her life. "How the Hell do you know that, and what is 'Latin'?"

"I learned it in Catholic school, when I was a kid. 'Latin is dead, as dead as can be. First it killed the Romans, now it's killing me.'" She went off into another fit of giggling, almost rolling off the couch.

"A dead language? Humanity is exactly the kind of people who'd use a dead language for one of their major religions. Now what does it mean?" She grabbed the girl by the jaw, staring into her eyes to grab her drug-skewed attention.

"Umm…it means 'In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.' Can I have more Helix?" The girl's eyes were unfocused and drifting as Aria let her go in disgust. "Bray, take her to get detoxed. I wish to learn more of this…Latin."

"Why so interested in a dead language of a stupid Human religion, Aria?" Patriarch leaned back on his section of the couch, opposite of Aria.

"Faith is a powerful tool, Patriarch. It has raised and destroyed entire empires, remember that."


	4. Renewal and Rebirth

**I spent about a month and a half with just the locations written down, knowing what I wanted to write but not how to put it down to paper. I finally figured that out over the past week while I've been on my three week Annual Training with my National Guard unit. But in that month and a half I pretty much figured out where I want to take this story and in the next few chapters you'll start to see that progress. So sit back, grab a drink, and enjoy this long awaited chapter.**

* * *

**_"_****I will make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and will give them all these lands, and through your offspring all nations on Earth will be blessed.****_" – _****The Torah, Book of Genesis 26:4**

John sat cross legged on the dark flat ground, his eyes closed and his body relaxed in a state of meditation he had used ever since his biotics began manifesting at the age of twelve. He had been an L3 implant and had dodged the crippling migraines that had affected the L2's like Kaiden, while instead he had suffered from minor head aches and burning muscles. The meditations, he had discovered, helped bring relief to those symptoms as well as letting him calm himself and focus his biotic powers. During his campaign against the Collectors he had spent many hours in the portside observation deck, meditating with Samara. It had been nice to have a partner in that effort. In his mind's eye he drifted along his body, the many scars he had accumulated over the years clear and bright as if they were still fresh. He stopped along his forearms, covered in a series of scars that curled and entwined with each other at seeming impossible angles. Visions of memories flashed before his eyes, the roar of battle, a city in the distance, his arms casting flames of blue and purple…

_Just don't keep me waiting too long, okay?_

The words drifted out of the dark like a whisper, his eyes snapping open. "Jack?!" He surged to his feet, casting about in the dark for the source of the voice. "Jack! Jack, are you there?!" He shouted out into the darkness.

**_"SHE IS NOT HERE, JOHN. ALL YOU HEARD WAS BUT A WHISPER FROM THE OTHER SIDE." _**Death had picked up the book he had put down and had returned to his readings while John meditated. John glanced at the cover, written in a language of swirling circles and lines that he couldn't even begin to fathom.

"But I _heard _her, Death, I heard her…" He slumped back down to the ground, hanging his head. "How could I hear her if she wasn't here?"

**_"AS I TOLD YOU, YOU ARE IMBETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH. YOU MAY HEAR TRICKLES OF THE CONVERSATIONS FROM THOSE CLOSE TO YOU ON THE SIDE OF LIFE."_**

"And what of the other side?"

**_"THERE IS NOTHING TO HEAR, THERE ON THE OTHER SIDE."_**

* * *

**Aboard the SSV Cambridge, Phoenix class Cruiser, Sol System**

Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams tapped her foot against the deck as she stood, leaning against a bulkhead. She glanced for what must have been the thousandth time in the last half hour at the little holographic name placard in front of the door that stated in bold golden-orange letters, "Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard". With a pneumatic hiss the door slid open and an authoritative, but distinctly female, voice called from within, "Come in, Lieutenant Commander." With that Ashley quickly pushed off and stepped into the room, coming to attention a couple of feet in front of the small metal desk that took up, along with a small bed, the majority of the equally small room. "Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams, reporting as ordered, Ma'am!" She sounded off, her back straight and rigid as she stared straight ahead at the bulkhead behind the desk.

"As you were, Ashley, and please you know to call me Hannah. Take a seat." Hannah Shepard motioned to a chair bolted to the deck and Ashley gratefully took the offered seat. "How have you been, dear?" She leaned forward, dark hair pulled back in a tight bun and a bright smile on her face with her icy blue eyes flashing.

Ashley thought for a moment, as she always did, of how Shepard had those same eyes. "I've been well, ma'am, considering the fighting we went through in London." Hannah simply nodded at that. "But that fight is mostly over. Javik, the Prothean, led an assault in the Underground system to clear out the last of the Reaper ground troops. He said that they looked…cancerous, infected by something."

"That's good intel. I'll make sure the right people hear it." Hanna nodded, and for a few moments the two sat in silence until the older woman broke it. "I want you to know that I was so sorry to hear that it didn't work out between you and John." Ashley shifted uncomfortably at the reminder, "And just so you know, I do not approve of his current…girlfriend." Hannah leaned back in her seat and sniffed, giving off the air of a clucking mother hen.

"You're not the only one." Ashley muttered, "I'm guessing you read the Alliance's file on her?'

"Of course, rank does have its privileges." She picked up a data pad off the corner of her desk and began to flip through it. "Alliance report on Jacqueline Nought, AKA Jack, AKA Subject Zero. A career criminal, murderer, cultist, arsonist and general psychopath. Nicknamed 'The Psychotic Biotic' by her students, she is vulgar, overly tattooed and pierced, with a common vernacular that would make even an Old Salt of a sailor like the MCPON blush. Truly, as a mother, how could I _not_ want this woman for my only son?" Her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she tossed the data pad back on the desk. "I don't care what Sanders says about her time at Grissom academy, the woman should have been locked up, not given a job. But my son is a grown man, so as much as I wish I could play Yenta, it is ultimately up to him" her shoulders dropped in a resigned shrug. "But that doesn't mean I'm not disappointed in him and his choice. This Jack is not the woman for the Hero of Man, the hero of the Galaxy. You are. That…animal doesn't deserve him." Ashley blinked in surprise at the vehemence of the comment. "But enough of that, I didn't just call you here to reminisce and gossip, I have an assignment for you, commander."

With that Ashley straightened her back, recognizing the change from friend to superior officer. "What's the assignment, ma'am?"

Hannah reached for another of the many data pads strewed across the desk, handing one to her. "This is the formal recognition from the Admiralty that you have taken over command as captain of the SR-2 Normandy frigate with the incapacitation of its current captain, due to medical reasons sustained in combat against Reaper forces, Commander John Shepard. Your first assignment is to link up with the Asari dreadnought Destiny Ascension where the Council currently resides after their…harrowing escape from the Citadel before its capture by the Reapers. They will brief you on your mission."

"Ma'am, with all due respect to the Alliance, but I'm not the XO of the Normandy. That position is held by Garrus Vakarian." From what she had learned even back when Shepard was fighting the Collectors with Cerberus, who had positioned one of their agents as the XO, he'd deferred to Garrus for the job. That deferment had carried over with his return to the Normandy until Shepard had made it official, much to the braying of the Alliance brass at the idea of a Turian as the XO of their most advanced warship, despite the fact that the original Normandy had been a joint-venture between Humanity and the Turian Hierarchy.

Hannah frowned, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. "The Alliance has made the decision that as an Alliance ship the Normandy must have an Alliance XO…and Captain. Are you rejecting this posting, commander?"

"No, ma'am, and if you don't mind me asking why is this coming through the Alliance? I'm a SPECTER, if the Council needed me for a mission, shouldn't it have come straight from them?" Ashley's eyes flicked over the orders, her brow wrinkled. Garrus would probably step down without fuss, especially if the Normandy was needed for a SPECTER mission, but still…it felt like a betrayal.

"Normally it would, but the Normandy is crucial for this mission, which is why it first came through us. It's only one of three such ships that are considered Normandy Class in existence and seeing as the Cambrai has been occupied running N7 level Operations across the galaxy while the other is still in dry dock after it's capture from Cerberus during the battle of Chronos station, it is the only ship with the capabilities requested in the Operation Order we were given."

"And what capabilities are those?"

"Stealth, speed and enough fire power to get yourself out of a jam. I can't think of a better ship than the Normandy."

Ashley nodded as that made perfect sense to her, even though she hadn't known about the other two Normandy class frigates. "Is that all, ma'am?"

"That is all, commander. Be safe, I feel that John will need you by his side, steady as a rock in these stormy seas, sooner rather than later. And pray for him, lord knows I will…even if he wouldn't want me to." A small smile graced her face with the merest of moments. "Dismissed, commander, and don't be such a stranger." With that last word Hannah Shepard bent her head back to the endless paper work that littered her desk.

Ashley stood to attention, "Aye, aye, ma'am." She turned on her heel and strode out of the office, a prayer for Shepard already going through her mind.

* * *

**Tuchanka, Urdnot territory**

Urdnot Wrex stepped off the shuttle and onto the hard dusty soil of Tuchanka, the harsh red sunlight beating on his brow and armored back as the high pitched whine of the shuttle's engines roared through his ears. Dirt and crumbling concrete crunched under his boots as he strode towards the waiting group. He looked over them, old warriors each. Too old to go off planet to fight the Reapers, so they remained, training troops and doing what needed to be done to hold Wrex's fragile tribal confederacy together. He turned to the eldest of them, a Krogan whose back was bent with age and black and blue head plate dull and scarred by years on the battle field. "Has it begun, Shaman?" He asked in a gruff voice as he pushed through the group, charging ahead.

"That it has, Overlord. The labors began only an hour ago, I shall lead you to the birthing hall." The old Shaman moved with surprising speed to catch up to Wrex, leading him through the complex and past scores of Krogan milling about. Wrex was proud of what he and Bakara had accomplished after Shepard had helped cure the Genophage. That was a gift he swore the Krogan would not squander. He was barely 800 years old, and unless some young welp sent him to his ancestors early, he could be expected to live up to 1200, if not beyond. He would lead the Krogan to glory and he'd drag them along by their stumpy tails if he needed to.

The Shaman led the group out of the main camp and towards a structure whose freshly polished stone walls shimmered like gold in the early Tuchankan sun. "New construction?" Wrex inquired of the Shaman, who gave a gruff nod in response. "Good. We'll need more of it, a lot more." He strode into the building, its archways high and wide enough to allow the entrance of five Krogan abreast. The interior was made of polished stone as well, but this a glittering silver-white and black of marble. Wrex nodded in approval and eyed the Krogan rushing about inside. They wore the long, sweeping white jackets that the Krogan had adopted as the uniform of their, admittedly few, doctors and nurses. One walked over to him, her face covered by a traditional garb hood of Krogan females, dyed as white as her jacket with crimson highlights. "Overlord Wrex, if you would please follow me." She turned on her heel and walked off, obviously expecting the male Krogan to follow, which he wasted no time in doing. As he followed the female doctor he glanced into the rooms as he passed them, each occupied by an obviously pregnant Krogan. "Well, it looks like we haven't wasted any time in beginning to replenish our numbers. The comment earned a few chuckles from the old Krogans following them.

"Yes, we are doing well not only here, Overlord, but across the planet as pilgrims travel from across the stars to accept Shepard's Gift." The doctor spoke over her shoulder before turning a corner and coming to a halt. "I am going to have ask all but the Overlord and the Shaman to remain here, or in the waiting area at the entrance. Overlord, Shaman?" She nodded for the two of them to follow as she stepped through a set of doors. The two males left the group to follow her as the others turned back, grumbling. As they stepped through they were greeted by the sight of Bakara laying on her back on a thin bed, legs spread with her cowl discarded in the corner of the room. "Wrex, Shaman. You almost…urgh, "She grunted in pain, "missed the show." She grunted again.

"Is she dilated?" She received a nod from a female kneeling between Bakara's legs. "Good. Begin the induction. Shaman, if you would start the chants?" The Shaman nodded and moved up next to Bakara and began to chant, his words haunting and forceful.

"_O' Mother of Tuchanka! _

_Mother of Krogan! _

_Here you begin a right denied to so many these past 1300 years! _

_Here you begin a right of blood, of gore, of new life! _

_Out of blood and pain shall come whole flesh and joy!_

_No more shall mothers fear mountains of dead children, no more shall mothers bear hollow eggs!_

_For the Curse is lifted, a blessing brought about by sacrifice!_

_O' Mother, here on Tuchanka you bring new life to the Krogan!_

_Here on Tuchanka you bring new life to the world, so that we may begin anew!_

_From this red dust shall bloom life as colorful and diverse as the Krogan themselves!_

_Life that is fit for our world, for our Tuchanka, for our Mother!_

_Our Mother whose own flesh and blood was given so that all Krogan may have this right!_

_O' Mother you are Krogan, strength through pain is our way!_

_O' Mother, you are strong, for what pain have you endured!_

_For much pain have you endured, and more you shall bear, for to live is the first right and the last!_

_O' Mother, bringer of life, sower of seeds, be patient in this pain and give strength to your children!"_

With the chant finished the Shaman stepped back, Bakara was panting as she began the birthing process. Over the next hours she grunted and roared but did not scream or cry, as she took strength from the pain like the chant said to. At the end she gave one last grunting push as the final egg slipped from her body. "There…that is all of them." Wrex had stood silently through the process, staring at the trio of dusty reddish brown eggs that shook slightly under a heat lamp, with a dull crack the largest of the three eggs split, a small hole punched out as the new born clawed and head butted it's way out of the thinly shelled egg that imprisoned it. In a matter of minutes it had broken free, followed over the next few minutes by its siblings. The Shaman moved over to them as they crawled about the table, their small hands grabbing and shoving their own broken egg shells and left over juices into their small mouths. He picked them up, ignoring their cries of protest as he carried them over to Bakara, who took them in her arms. The infants' leathery helms that would one day turn into a hard crest looking ridiculously big on their small bodies. "A Krogan's first right is to be born into the world, to escape from the prison of their birth by the merits of their own strength and cunning. To make a meal of their past home, to gain strength through the past for the future."

"Wrex…" At the mention of his name he snapped out of his stupor and moved next to his mate. "What are we going to call them?" She inquired, "One boy and two girls."

"I know what we'll name them. But that is for the next right. Truth, Shaman?" Wrex growled, turning to the older Krogan, who nodded in return. "Yes, Overlord, the naming right is next. Come, and bring the welps." The Shaman turned to leave as Wrex moved to collect his children, gathering the still wet and squirming forms that fit in his hands, and followed the Shaman. Bakara slid to her feet, retrieved her cowl and followed, for the next right would require both of them. The Shaman led them out of the hospital and towards an amphitheater, another new construction that was packed with Krogan as word of Bakara's birthing spread. As the three moved through the halls Wrex's children moved about in his hands, crawling over each other and attempting to cling to his armored chest. Finally the Shaman led them out onto a low stone stage, the infants pausing in their squabbles to stare and hiss at the roaring crowd that seethed around them. The Shaman raised his arms to the sky and the crowd fell silent. Turning he picked up the oldest, the male, and held him up by the scruff of his small hump for all to see. "Urdnot Wrex, Overlord of all Krogan, here before you is the oldest of your clutch! First to break free of both mother and egg! What shall he be known as to all Krogan?"

"I, Urdnot Wrex, father of this welp give him the birth name of Mordin! He who sacrificed himself to insure that all Krogan be cured of the cursed Genophage!" The crowd roared the name as Wrex beamed about.

The Shaman nodded and placed Mordin in Bakara's arms, who pulled him close. The Shaman then took one of the girls and held her up as he had their brother. "Here is your second! First of two girls to break from both mother and egg! What shall you name her for all Krogan to know?"

Wrex paused a moment to think, the name toying with him. "I shall name her Eve! For the legends of the Humans say she was the first woman, born of blood and bone, taken from the rib of a man!" He thumped his curled fist, his last daughter held is his other hand, against his rib cage. The crowd's roar was mixed with some laughter but the Shaman nodded and passed Eve to Bakara. Finally he took the last of the three and held her up. "Here is the last of your clutch, who waited till her siblings had shown that all was safe before venturing out into the world! What shall you name her, so that her siblings and all Krogan may know her?"

Wrex looked at Bakara, whose face was hidden behind her cowl, her eyes glistened and slowly nodded. "I shall name her after the greatest of Krogan Heroes! From here on out she shall be known as…Shepard!" The crowd surged to its feet, the roar rising to a crescendo that echoed back on itself. Feet were stamped, chests were thumped and all through the night, across multiple worlds, barrels of ryncol were opened and toasts were raised to the Future of Krogan.

* * *

**Sur'Kesh, Palace of the Daltress**

"Fools! All of them, fools!" The Daltress skittered about her office, her hands clutched to her chest as she cast about the room. "They put their ill advised faith in Shepard with his promises to bring the Reapers low, and does he? No! The idiot squandered our best chance at a quick, decisive, victory over the Reapers. Now we will have to spend years, and millions more lives to finally rid the galaxy of them!" She glanced over to the other figure in the room. A scowling dark green and red skinned male stood in front of her desk, a Scorpion pistol on one hip and an M-7 Tempest on the other. "And now they want to send him here to recover, here where if word leaks out that he's here the Reapers will come storming through the gates just to rid themselves of him."

"Then it is best we _don't _let it leak that he'll be here, Daltress. Plant false trails, make him be in a thousand places at any given time. Make it impossible for the Reapers, or even any lingering Cerberus agents, to actually know where he is." The male spoke, his high pitched voice slow, steady, calming.

"Yes. Yes, of course general Thadix. We'll let him recover here, and if we need to we can use him as a bargaining chip. Yes, Shepard did what needed to be done uniting the galaxy and what better place for him, if it comes to it, than that of a martyr? If the Reapers come here we shall…strive to evacuate the good Commander, whose ship shall tragically be shot down by the Reapers. Good, good." The Daltress muttered to herself, her eyes wide (for a Salarian) and jittery (for a Salarian).

Meanwhile the general simply stood there, blinking and scowling. He didn't think that the Daltress knew that she was talking out loud. She was barely 33, far too young for any sort of senility to set in, which was in and of its self was rare among their people. "Anything else, Daltress?"

"What? No, general. Go, I have…plans to make for the Commander's arrival." With that the general gave a smart salute and made a quick exit out of the office. The moment the doors swooshed shut behind him he qued up a secure line on his omni-tool. He needed only to wait a few seconds before the line was picked up on the other side. "Yes, General Thadix?" The screen was filled with the face of a black skinned Salarian with hues of deep red poking through.

"Captain Wicks? Gather Major Kirahe, Colonels Thalyn and Prestilk. There is popular strategy we must discuss." Padock Wicks blinked on the other end of the line as the code word was dropped. "Of course, General. I'll gather them immediately." With that the line went dead and Thadix strode off, disappearing into the crowded hallways of the government building.

* * *

**I'm sure to have some questions about the birth of Krogans, so I'll put that out here now. Over the course of the games I heard references to "Mountains of dead children" as well as "Broken eggs" which led me to believe that Krogan give birth to eggs, to allow for a quick and easy birth, in which the new born can quickly escape from once outside of the mother. But that's just my view on it, and I'd love to hear others opinions.**

**I hope at least some of you noticed my shout out to iBayne's Galaxy at War: N7. If you haven't read it yet, what are you still doing here? Go read it, it's probably one of the best Mass Effect FanFics on this site. My training is almost at an end so I'll be returning to my 7 day a week grind at work instead of my 7 day a week grind here at training. Hopefully I'll be motivated to write a bit quicker this time. Until then, good night and good luck.**


End file.
